Sleep
by Purple Mango
Summary: Short piece of MarkRoger fluff. Roger remembers the night he first fell asleep beside Mark. This was fun to write so I hope you enjoy it too.


* Author's Note: Just a little piece of Mark/Roger fluff that was started by this picture () which I found on the LJ community 15minute ficlets where is gives you a word or picture and then 15 minutes to write a short story. This was not written in 15 minutes, the original copy took about twenty minutes and then the next day I went through and added a couple of bits. Thanks to 15minuteficlets for inspiring me because I've really needed it, I haven't completed anything for ages and this was really fun to do, sorry for breaking the rules!!! Completed 27th November 2003. 

* Disclaimer: I do not own RENT or the characters therein. So sue me sue me what can you do me? *grin* (Go Guys and Dolls!!!). This is slash I warn you, but really, seeing as it's RENT, that's hardly going to come as a big surprise is it?!! Rubbish title but whatever…

*Sleep*

*by najuk*

"Night Roge," you murmur, your eyes falling shut as you lean slightly over to press your lips against mine. You snuggle down against the pillow, nuzzling your head into it in that cat-like way of yours, smiling slightly.

"Night," I whisper quietly.

I trail a hand softly through your hair and let it fall to rest on your waist; you wriggle closer and sigh against my cheek. I shut my eyes too, remembering the first time I fell asleep with you.

It was years ago, long before any of this, when we were younger and less troubled, when those troubles we did have seemed like mountains but are now molehills compared to our current tribulations.

We staggered in at about four o'clock, laughing our heads off, arms around each other's shoulders, smashed beyond belief. You collapsed on the mattress in the corner of the room, almost hysterical about something you had just thought of, something lude and repulsive to do with Benny and leather but it kept us amused. It took a few moments to register that you were lying on my bed but the point slipped from my mind as quickly as it had appeared.

My legs refused to function correctly as I tried to find us some food. I looked back and your face was alight with smiles and laughter, all our problems were far away, your eyes were tired but lit with laughter. Shining and beautiful. Being drunk makes you think of things differently to say the least, usually you remember so little but the image of you lying on the mattress, your face the happiest I'd seen it in weeks has remained with me for years. I tried to throw the half-eaten pack of biscuits into your lap but it missed by a mile and landed near the door. You only laughed more.

"I'm going bathroom," I slurred and tried to make it to the door without stumbling into a wall or the floor, which, at times, seemed to be looming dangerously close.

"Rogey, Rogey, Rogey," you giggled, "you can't walk for shit!"

Apparently this was absolutely fucking hilarious as I was laughing too and suddenly on the floor leaning against the wall my sides aching with laughter.

"Shut the fuck up, at least I can stand," I said from my position on the floor.

"Mmmmm," you were tired now snuggling up against the bedding, wriggling yourself under the layers of blankets, "you're still more trashed than me Rogey Rogey Rogey and yoooooouuuuuuuuuuu know it," you sighed, smiling into the pillow.

I shook my head - bad idea - and somehow unfolded my limbs so that I was standing. Clutching at the wall, I staggered into the bathroom and swung the door shut.

I came out into the living room sucking at my thumb after catching it in the zipper of my trousers at least twice.

"Maaark?" I whined, "I got a baddie."

Silence. Well, a rather pounding silence as my head was throbbing from the gallons of alcohol that had passed my lips. You had fallen asleep on my mattress sprawled out like a cat. One arm flung up by your face and the other dangling off the edge of the mattress. A tiny smile was still on your lips. I would bet anything you wouldn't be smiling the next morning, but there you were looking like an angel as you slept. Or maybe that was the drink making me think that. My legs buckled so I was kneeling beside you, my hands steadying myself on the lumpy mattress. My head pounded some more. 

"Marky looks cute when he's sleeping," I mumbled, saying my rather drunken thoughts out loud

Your breath rasped slightly through barely open lips, you wriggled your head, nuzzling it against your arm.

"Move over Marky, that's my bed."

I tried, and failed, to push you over to the other side of the mattress. I gave up and, as the crawl to your bed was much too far to even think about negotiating, I lay myself down, pressed close to your body. I swiftly fell asleep beside you, my arm slung over your body to stop me from falling backwards. Two kittens stretched out opposite each other.

I sigh now and kiss your forehead, that same tiny smile is still on your lips. When we sobered up it hardly seemed like something we should question, we passed it off as drunken antics and didn't speak of it again. But really, I think sardonically as I move even closer to you so there isn't an inch separating us, skin on skin, your soft aroma filling my nostrils as I lay my head back down beside yours, really, who were we kidding?!


End file.
